The Rest of Your Life
by Lailara
Summary: Darien meets up with an old friend. Past-fic


Title: The Rest of Your Life  
Author: AriellaGiselle  
Rating: PG-13  
Warnings: Illegal activity, little bit of language  
Author's notes: This is AU.  
Disclaimer: Darien belongs to Stu Segal, SciFi, and Matt Greenberg. Milner Brantley actually belongs to my CW teacher and her daughter, but in her present form, she's all mine and likely to make appearances in future stories. Dorian Slater also belongs to me. She is taken from an earlier work of mine. 

Thanks to Kevin and GS for helping me trim it down for the actual assignment. 

***** 

Milner Brantley ran the antique silver brush through her short, blonde strands, savoring the feel of the bristles against her scalp. Her normally green-grey eyes flashed behind the neon blue contacts. 

The lace of the bustier felt rough against her soft skin, a delicious contrast to the leather of her favorite jacket. 

She laid down on the queen size bed that took up most of the space in her bedroom and zipped up her two-sizes-too-small glitter pants. 

Standing slowly, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror. "Today is the first day of the rest of your life," she whispered to the full-length looking glass, half-hoping for some sweetly benevolent reply. 

After pulling her hair up, she walked to the vanity, reaching down to take the long, black wig in her hands, and pulling into place over her natural tresses. She smiled at the waiting, welcomed reflection of Ravyn, her nightclub alter ego. 

"Let's go," she said steadily, securing the wig with one last pin. 

* * * * * * * * * * * 

Ravyn trudged up the stairs. "Why on Earth would they lock the elevators at midnight?" she groused irritably. She hated stairs when she was drunk, but she hated them even more when she was sober; she'd only had one drink all night. 

Upon finally reaching the sixth floor, her floor, she noticed someone sitting on the floor, leaning on her door. He looked so familiar. "No, it can't be him," she told herself. 

The dark haired man heard her booted-footsteps and rose slowly, not looking at her. 

"Darien Fawkes?" she ventured nervously. 

"Milner Brantley?" he mimicked her tone and turned to look at her. 

She nodded and flung her arms around the lanky man's neck. "Oh, my God! It's been so long! What are you doing here?" 

Darien smiled and held up his hands in Wild West hold up fashion. "Whoa, slow down, cowgirl! I'm here to see you. Dorian had work, or she'd be here, too. But she sends her love," he paused, "Oh, and it's only been three years, Miln. You and Dorian, Class of '95, 'member?" 

She giggled and spoke, "Well, you've just got to come in! It's a bit of a mess, but then again, I've seen your living spaces before." Her contact covered eyes sparkled with friendship and mirth as she unlocked the door to her apartment. 

* * * * * * * * * * * 

"I've got a bit of a proposition for you, Milner dear," Darien began. 

Milner eyed him suspiciously. He looked exactly the same; the dark hair, the ever-pleading puppy dog eyes, the lanky figure, and the thrift shop fashion sense that was so uniquely Darien Fawkes was still there. "Yeah?" 

"You know my rule about jewels, but I think I've found a reason to break it." 

Her once again green-grey eyes widened after a moment, the realization of what he was saying sinking into her sleep hungry brain. She stood and began pacing. "Dare, you can't do this! I gave all that up when I graduated college! Turned over a new leaf and all that mess." 

"I know, but I'm going to need your help. You're the only one I can trust with this," he replied, standing and grasping her small, nervous hands in his own. 

Milner looked down at their hands and fought emotions she thought she'd long since buried. "God, Darien, you don't know how tempted I am! The thought of pulling off the caper of the century with you is just so appealing! But I can't; you know I can't, Darien," she whispered the last sentence and looked up at him, tears brimming in her eyes. 

"Come on, Milner. If you and I can pull this off, the payoff will be outrageous. More than we ever made when you were in college." His deep brown eyes searched hers for a spark of interest. 

"How outrageous?" the supposedly mild-mannered clinical psychologist asked, sniffling noisily. She could feel her resolve crumbling under his persuasion. 

"4.9 million, Miln. Think about it: enough money to retire to some warm place in the South Pacific. You could even take what's-his-face with you," Darien said in a hushed tone. One of his California-tanned hands came up to swipe at the tears streaming down her porcelain 

"His name is Vito, Dare, and no, I broke up with him," Milner paused and narrowed her eyes at him. "What do you know about Vito?!" 

"Keepin' tabs, Miln." He shrugged and returned to his chair. 

"Dorian knows nothing about this?" She wrapped her right arm around her midsection while nervously chewing on the nails of her left hand. 

"She may be my wife, but if I ever get caught, she can't know anything. It's bad enough she knows what I do at all," he replied, lowering his head to watch his own hands, which were wringing furiously. "So, what do you say, Miln? Are you in?" 

"Why couldn't you go to Liz with this?" she sighed, throwing her hands up in a last ditch effort to resist his temptation. She couldn't ever lie to herself; she loved the thrill of a good steal. It was like a drug for her. She'd been so bored with herself when she'd given it up for her practice. 

"Liz and I don't speak much anymore. At least not since Dori and I got married. Besides, I never trusted her like I trusted, like I trust you. She wouldn't hesitate to take the jewels and run if it looked like we were gonna get grabbed." 

She looked at him, and unreal fire burning in her green orbs. "How do you know that I won't? Three years has changed me, Darien." 

"Yeah, me, too, but I know you, Milner Diane Brantley; you don't bail on your partner." 

They remained in their electrically tense silence for what could've been ages when she nodded, sighing. "I can't believe I'm actually going to do this, but," she hesitated, "I'm in." 

A wicked smile crept across Darien's handsome face, and he jumped up to hug her tightly. 

"We're doing this, Miln. Don't worry; it's totally fool-proof," he promised, wrapping his arms around her to seal the bargain. 

"Yeah, where have I heard that one before?" she whispered into his chest. 

* * * * * * * * * * * 

The next four weeks flew by with a full, but highly illegal agenda. Milner passed the jewel owner's apartment building three times a day, stopping to flirt with the doorman at least once. She had noticed that one of her patients, Mrs. Moira MacKenzie, lived in the building, but passed it off as a coincidence. 

Darien, meanwhile, procured the necessary equipment and stashed it at Milner's apartment. When he had informed her about the owner of the precious Latvian sapphires, Milner had begun protesting, telling him that there was no way she was going to steal from a client's significant other. 

"Think about it: after the robbery, she's not going to feel safe anymore. She's going to need someone to help her through such trying times. And who better to do that than her shrink?" Darien had reasoned. Milner had had to admit that he had a point. She agreed again, and they went on with their plans. 

* * * * * * * * * * * 

"Today is the first day of the rest of your life," Milner whispered as if it were some soul-saving mantra. She stood in front of her full-length mirror, steam still emanating from her freshly scrubbed skin. 

The donning of her black silk panties and black lace bra was an important pre-theft ritual dating back to the days of her senior year of high school when she did simple, petty jobs. She considered them necessarily lucky under her black leather pants and skintight black turtleneck. 

Darien emerged from his shower dressed exactly like her, minus the leather; he had always opted for cotton slacks instead. He tossed a few last minute items into his wardrobe matching backpack and stood to face her. 

Milner smiled approvingly and pulled him into a needy hug. "See you there," she whispered, "and be careful, man." 

* * * * * * * * * * * 

Milner sprinted down the alley away from the blaring sirens. She prayed to whatever deities watching their scene that Darien got out in time. "Stupid!" she hissed, "I shouldn't have left him." But he'd made her leave, reasoned with her at the last second. 

The Latvian sapphires were tucked safely in her pocket. 

She jumped up and grabbed the ladder of the fire escape and pulled it down. Jumping once more, scaling the side of the building, she slid the window to her apartment open. 

Milner looked around the darkened room for any sign of life. 

"'Bout time you got here," Darien whispered from behind her. Relief and fright flooded all of her systems as she whirled around to take him into her arms. 

"Thank God you got out, Dare," she sighed heavily. 

"Me too, Miln, me too." 

* * * * * * * * * * * 

Two Weeks Later… 

The clacking of the ancient calculator filled Milner's small living room. She paced quickly, seemingly striving to wear holes in the plush, cobalt carpet. "Well?" she asked impatiently, lighting her third cigarette in an hour. 

"Just a minute, cowgirl," Darien mumbled. He muttered a few choice expletives, a groan of defeat, and finally, a "Eureka!" floated the blonde's way. 

"Well?" she jumped up from the couch, setting her cigarette in the ashtray. 

"After expenses," he began, "We'll profit - now this is a totally rough estimate - about…" he paused for dramatic effect, as well as to hit the equal button on the calculator. "Tada! $4,125,000!" A devilishly proud, but extremely goofy grin crossed his face, only to be mirrored by Milner. 

She screamed and ran into his arms. She felt like she was floating on air, then she realized that her feet weren't touching the ground; Darien was swinging her around in a giant bear hug. 

"We did it, you crazy son of a bitch, we did it…" 

THE END 


End file.
